Joe Sheehan: Songs of Lake Volta
Ansonica Records

In our world, some erect walls, others bridges. Proudly embracing the latter approach is Joe Sheehan, whose Songs of Lake Volta draws magnificent connecting threads from classical music and contemporary jazz to the music of West Africa. In another's hands, the attempt to fuse three such fundamentally different forms might produce an unwieldy oil-and-water result; Sheehan, on the other hand, blends classical strings and jazz ensemble playing with nine traditional Ghanaian songs (augmented by original music composed by him) as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

Sheehan, who teaches at Duquesne University in Pittsburgh and brings academic degrees in classical composition and experience as a professional jazz pianist to the project, is no dilettante, someone dabbling in other cultures and then plundering them to generate shallow crossovers. On the contrary, his deep tie to West Africa stems from years of engagement, including several trips to Ghana to study its culture. During his first visit in 2008, he immersed himself wholly in its music and dance for six months, a transformative experience that profoundly affected him as both musician and person (return trips occurred between 2013 and 2017 to facilitate further explorations). One outgrowth of that experience was the formation of the versatile Afro-jazz quintet Kinetic, which issued its first album, World of Wonder, in 2014 and now follows it with Songs of Lake Volta. On the new album, Kinetic, which pairs Sheehan on piano with singer Anqwenique Wingfield, guitarist Anthony Ambroso, bassist Jason Rafalak, and drummer Ryan Socrates, is joined by string players from the Kassia Ensemble, an all-female classical chamber group.

The album's a treat for the ears: after field recordings of night insects evoke the Ghanaian setting, “Akoo Kofi” opens the album with relaxed strings, cymbals, and piano flourishes, the music turning sultry as it moves into the main body of the song. The satisfying integration of Kinetic's elegant sound with the sensuality of the Kassia strings is already apparent at this early stage. With a relaxedly swinging rhythm as the impetus, “Nyento” likewise effects a similar integration when violin first voices the folk melody before the vocal enters.

New York and Ghana are geographically far apart, but when Wingfield's vocal initially appears in “Damba Suite,” it's easy to draw a straight line from the West African material to Meredith Monk's, so similar is the chant-like vocal at the song's opening to material by the American composer. And though Wingfield sings in various indigenous languages of Ghana, the music is so expressive it communicates with immediacy, especially when it segues into a joyous, rhythm-driven sequence in its second half. Jazz, classical, and Ghanaian folk are all drawn upon during the song, but for most of it, identification with a particular style and place subsides and the music becomes something magically borders-free. At other moments, a song will gravitate briefly in a specific direction, as it does, for instance, towards jazz fusion during the guitar-led instrumental break in “Confornoche.”

One of the more appealing dimensions of the album is the songs' tendency to break out into joyful uplift, the music buoyed by soaring melodies and infectious rhythms. When Wingfield sings “Hallelujah” during “Subo,” for example, the music rises to a rapturous level, while the swinging rhythm animating “Dusime” is likewise impossible to deny. Of particular note is the hymnal “Oye,” a deeply heartfelt supplication delivered by the singer and company with consummate grace. Sometimes a song contains minimal lyrical content that's voiced over and over, the repetition bolstering the entrancing effect of the music: the lyrics to the joyous “Kekele” are nothing more than “Kekele djo dja djo dja dja dja dja / Mobaiyo,” but the emotional pitch Wingfield reaches with them is marvelous. As critical as all the participants are to the project's success, she warrants special mention when her singing repeatedly lifts the recording so stirringly.

Working explicitly with Ghanaian folk material, Sheehan's sensitive to the issue of cultural appropriation and confronts it head-on in his liner notes. In treating the music authentically, honestly, and respectfully, he deflects potential criticism that could be lobbed his way; a genuine love and admiration for the music similarly argues on his behalf, as does the trust and encouragement accorded him by the Ghanaian musicians with whom he's he worked. Sheehan, like Kinetic, operates from the belief that barriers between genres and people are best broken; further to that, in celebrating Ghana's folk songs, Songs of Lake Volta shows that drumming isn't the only thing traditional African music has to offer. Even though the project might be seen as a risky one in today's politically charged climate, one imagines those Ghanaian musicians would be delighted by the album result. All such issues aside, songs about beauty, sadness, and war are universally relatable, even if they do originate from a specific locale, as they do here.

August 2018